


In Longing Memory

by Stylish_Racoon



Series: Breath Of The Wild AU [9]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Sexual Tension, botw au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 11:15:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stylish_Racoon/pseuds/Stylish_Racoon
Summary: A memory from one hundred years ago comes to Katsuki in a dream.





	In Longing Memory

**Author's Note:**

> I always think I'm out of ideas for this AU, and yet................and yet. Well, this was mostly practice, but since there are 5 (or more?) people who might enjoy it, it was a good enough reason for me to share it!

There was a cloud of steam and he stood right in the middle of it.

On a boulder, a red sparrow tapped its beak on the rocky surface and chirped while a second one, all puffed up, approached it with confidence. They exchanged a couple of glances, tiny heads twitching from side to side as if in question, they hopped in a private, to them, dance, and they both took flight, one chasing after the other. 

Then, it was quiet again. 

The silence of the Death Mountain was full, Katsuki always thought — full of guttural hums of the volcano, the steam of the hot springs at its foot, and the whistle of the trapped wind under the arches the Gorons had built to make way to their city. It breathed comfort and security, the same kind a dragon as a partner would bring. If it wasn’t for the dryness of the air that suck out moisture from every pore of his skin and the sweat rolling down the expanse of his neck, Death Mountain could easily be his favorite place. 

Another cloud of steam wrapped its airy fingers around his frame, scorching him with its heat. A droplet of sweat rolled down his cheek. The Champion's tunic felt unpleasant against his skin.

Katsuki griped the hilt of the Master Sword and stared in the distance in front of him. A pile of clothes rested by his feet — a tunic, blue like his, the black trousers and the black horse riding boots. Innocent-looking garments of clothing, simple fabrics stitched at the seams, but it wasn’t as so for Katsuki. He was Hyrule’s Champion, he thought, and a pile of clothes had him squirming like an earthworm after the rain. Pathetic. 

The waters of Gero Pond rustled. “This was much needed after such a day,” a voice said, followed by a sigh of delight. “Who would have thought that Rudania was such a temperamental Divine Beast? My entire body is aching.”

Katsuki swallowed and clenched his jaw. He forced his mind to the giant metallic lizard, to the hair-rising screeches its old joints made -- not to the glimpses of the brown mole between Eijirou’s fifth and sixth ribs he caught when the Prince himself stripped off his clothes a few minutes ago; not to the scars littering the length of his arms or the peaks of his nipples, nor to the sinful curve of his spine, right there, where it connected with his backside.

But, it was futile.

His knuckles turned white around the Master Sword's hilt. “Not worse than the ones that flies,” he croaked out.

Eijirou chortled. The water rustled again, and his voice sounded closer when he spoke. “You just can’t get along with anything related to Revali, can you? Your rivalry is amusing.”

“No rivalry. The feathery prick is just jealous of me.”

A sigh echoed in the midst of another cloud of steam. “It’s difficult to not be jealous of you, Katsuki,” Eijirou said. His tone lacked the smile from before. “You have achieved all we are striving to achieve. It can make a man bitter to be always one step behind.”

Katsuki’s stomach, seized by a familiar force, turned in his belly. He had heard of these words countless times before, he had felt them through Eijirou’s gaze boring in him as he swung his sword at his enemies. At first, it didn’t bother him. Yet fate enjoyed playing nasty games with them. 

Eijirou chuckled again and the tension dissolved. “Admiration and envy sometimes go hand in hand, so don’t let it bother you too much,” he said. Fingers wrapped around his boot-clad ankle, tugging gently. “Look at me. It’s odd talking to your back.”

It wasn’t an order. Katsuki didn’t have to obey. His body turned on its own. 

Eijirou stood on the shallow ledges of the spring, patches of his skin covered by thick steam, others at the mercy of Katsuki’s eyes. He was tougher than he used to be when they first met, muscles cut and smoothed out by their daily training and the miles they covered horse riding or on foot, by the swings of his sword and the stretches of his bow. His skin glistened with water or sweat, shy droplets coursing down the length of his body and hiding in the more private areas. He glowed like the spirits he worshiped every day, ethereal and gorgeous, his smile mysterious and promising like the one their Goddess wore.

Katsuki was not religious, yet Eijirou was a God he, too, would drop to his knees and worship. 

“Want to join me?” Eijirou asked, “The water is refreshing.” When Katsuki stiffened, the fingers around his ankles squeezed. Mouth upturn, cheeks rosy, eyes twinkling, alluring in a way it made it hard to think. “We are not at the palace," he said softly, "so we can stop acting like Prince and Knight here. Let's just be...friends."

_Friends_. How forced it sounded as it went past his lips; how harshly it speared Katsuki on the side. “Don’t wanna.” He paused. Swallowed. “Don't wanna join you,” he corrected, “I’m already fucking hot as balls.”

“Then at least come sit at the shore,” Eijirou coaxed, silky smooth, “I feel bad seeing you perched over there. I know the anaglyph of the Death Mountain is intriguing at best, but I like to think I’m also quite the sight.”

It was a joke on his tongue, in his eyes, but for Katsuki, it wasn’t. His blood whistled in his ears, pounding against his meninges. “I’m looking out for enemies, stupid. S'what I'm around for.”

With a sigh, Eijirou’s hand slid up Katsuki’s legs, ankle to calf, cupping and thumbing the leather of his boots. He was generous that day, with the curves of his smiles and the stars in his eyes, comfortable in his skin and his touches feathery or lingering. “As the Prince of Hyrule,” he said and fluttered his eyelashes like he had seen the grand leaders do, mock-serious, “I give you permission to relax and join me by the hot spring. The enemies, whoever they are, don't stand a stance against you, whether you're looking for them or not.”

Katsuki, weak to his knees, to his heart, soul and being, complied then. He jumped off the boulder and walked to a deeper pit of the spring where he sat by the water. The tips of his boots submerged to the surface as he crossed them underneath himself, tiny waves licking higher as Eijirou swam closer to him. He propped his elbows on land, the rest of him into the water, like a merman. They were touching so close they were, arm to thigh, and it burnt — hotter than the lava churning in the pits of Death Mountain. 

“Much better,” Eijirou cooed, his smile satisfied, “This angle of yours is better.”

Katsuki caught a bubble of water that had risen to the surface. He said nothing. His heart would jump out of his mouth if he dared open it. 

“If we leave in a few hours, we will make it to the Foothill Stable by sunset,” Eijirou added on without a care in the world. “Unless you mind the walk that is.”

Katsuki snorted. He shoved the Master Sword in its sheath. “Who the fuck do you think I am?”

Eijirou's smile spread again, like the first rays of the sun at dawn. “You’re right on that,” he agreed. Then, softer, he added, “Thank you for following me always.”

Such a change, Katsuki would think some days. From annoyed glares and snarling lips, from endless chases around Hyrule and purposeful, petty jabs, to words full of warmth and lingering gazes with meaning. Their relationship bloomed throughout the months they spent by each other’s sides, like the rare flowers growing on the hills by the castle. Enemies to partners; hostility to friendship. 

Eijirou wasn’t the only one who changed — every cell, every fiber of Katsuki’s body was rearranged and turned inside out, shattered and built up all over again. He had always thought he wanted no one by his side, only his sword, his bow and shield. But even a lone, wild wolf like Katsuki always thought he was, Eijirou managed mellow out with the magic he thought he did not possess. Now, Katsuki could barely imagine a life without Eijirou's footsteps softly thudding in sync with his.

Loving him had been so, so easy after that. Easy, but so, so tortuous.

A strand of red hair came loose right then, falling airily against his cheek. Spellbound, Katsuki touched it. With gentle fingers, he tucked it behind Eijirou’s ear. Brick-red eyes glanced at him, grounding and launching him to the moon at the same time.

“Can you untie it for me?” Eijirou asked. To Katsuki's silence, he laughed. "My hair. Let it down. Please." 

Katsuki’s heart leapt again, turning to a tight knot in his throat he could barely breathe around. He shifted, reaching for the golden string that held Eijirou's hair in place, and it with gentle tug it came loose. Red filled his palms then and he gathered it in his fists, greedy and marveled by how soft it was. He then pushed his fingers to the roots, letting them slide all the way to the ends. Eijirou's hair ended a few centimeters below his shoulders.

He grazed Eijirou's skin by accident, right there, on the nape, and his heart exploded at the goosebumps that erupted on Eijirou’s forearms. He tugged. Gently. Eijirou hummed.

“It’s longer, isn’t it?”

It all was on fire, red, like the tuffs of hair nestling in his grasp. He pulled again, firmer, and Eijirou's muffled gasp went straight to his groin. “It’s nice,” Katsuki croaked.

Fingers slithered on his thigh, then back, a palm squeezing his knee. “If you like it, then I have no reason to cut it, do I?”

His smile, his eyes, his frame — it all started to shiver as if a stone broke the surface of the water. Before Katsuki replied, the corners of his vision blurred, cracking with the darkness of nothingness, and he jolted awake, gasping through a burning airway and a mind blurry with the twist of dream and reality. 

He drew in a breath and willed the lingering jitters to dissolve in the morning humidity. It had been a while since a memory invaded him in such a way; he had forgotten the feeling of it. 

Through his window, the sky wore its lighter blue shades and the cattle of the Hateno Village was already on their morning rounds. Their horses snorted at the makeshift stable by the house. The river flowed, occasional splashes reminded Katsuki to go fishing for their lunch. 

Reality. His reality. 

He shifted on the mattress, but the white of his sheets kept him in place, the material soft against the bareness of his skin and agonizing against the burning tenderness of his most private area. A hiss left him. Flashes of strong naked hips, of water rivulets running down a curved spine, red hair sticking to a long, thick neck, it all invaded his mind and had him shiver. Hot lava flowed through his veins, his skin prickling with want. He hadn’t woken up in such a state ever since he was a teenager. 

A sigh resonated through the silence.

Eijirou was there when Katsuki turned his head. He laid on his side, one pillow to support his head, another hugged close to his chest with a leg thrown over it. Like in the dream, he wore no clothes and the hard planes of his body were evident under the sun’s nosiest rays, more muscular and less pliant compared to the memory. His skin was littered with a night sky's worth of constellations of scars and his hair, red as always, messy and shorter than in the dream, fanned out on the pillow. There was no crease on his face, no wrinkle. His eyelids shut, heavy with sleep.

The longing of one hundred years scorched him from the inside out and Katsuki let go of a shuddering sigh. He reeled back to the times he could only watch the wheat color of Eijirou's skin, but not touch, when he could touch and mend to the scars, but couldn’t kiss, couldn’t caress, couldn’t make love to the body that vesseled Hyrule’s hopes and his darkest, nastiest desires. Oh, how he had suffered. Oh, how _this _seemed like a distant dream back then. 

Sheets pooled around his feet and he tugged the pillow out of Eijirou’s grasp. Eijirou twitched in his sleep, smacking his lips and humming unintelligible words as Katsuki slipped his body in the pillow’s place. At the contact Katsuki hummed, shaking from his core to the tips of his limbs. Now, he could touch, he reminded himself. Now, the nooks and crannies of Eijirou’s body slipped against his like two perfectly matched puzzle pieces. Eijirou's skin bore a scent, Katsuki's scent, it had a taste, it sported his markings, it kept him warm at nights. The dip of his spine, the curve of his hips, the strong thigh that slid against his and locked around his waist — all underneath the pads of his fingers.

Oh, how jealous his self from the dream would have been. 

With a grunt, Katsuki pressed himself to Eijirou and rocked his hips against washboard abdomen. His lips latched on the soft under Eijirou's ear, tracing a path down to his shoulder, sometimes more teeth than lips, or more tongue than teeth. He would snort at himself — humping Hyrule’s Prince in his sleep. What would one say if they saw that? It always excited him to think about it. 

The peak was far from near when Eijirou began to stir. “Hm?”

Katsuki brushed his tongue against the slope of his jaw, stopping only when he got to the tip of his chin. His hips moved on their own accord, in their own personal frenzy. Eijirou gasped. “K-Katsuki—“

“Say the word and I’ll vanish,” he growled. “I'll hide and tie my hands until you tell me to come back."

Fingers clasped on his biceps. “Don’t ever leave.”

Katsuki moaned and kept moving until Eijirou was grinding back, face and chest flushed with the same desperation Katsuki felt. He pushed him on his back then and climbed on top of him and didn’t stop until he was filled to the brim and the tension built up from the memory littered Eijirou’s chest.

“What got into you?” Eijirou asked between the labored gasps of his peak. He was flushed from the chest all the way up his neck and ears. Sweat budded above his lip, a sheen spreading out in the middle of his chest, under his arms and at the crook of his elbow.

Katsuki closed his eyes shut as the last throes of his passion rattled him in a sweet, sweet way. He lifted his hips and let Eijirou slide out of him. “A memory,” he breathed. He grabbed the crumbled sheets with shaky fingers, bringing it to Eijirou’s chest, then began to clean him up. “It came to me in a dream. I was horny in it, woke up horny too.”

Eijirou blinked, his chest stilling. “Which one?”

“We were at the Gero Pond. You were swimming naked, acted all cute and friendly and flirty and, _fuck_, I fucking suffered.” Katsuki pushed a hand through his damp hair, letting go of a rough exhale. “What the fuck was wrong with you, acting all misleading like that? I barely restrained myself from bending you over and fucking you in that spring.” 

Eijirou gaped at him for a couple of seconds before he cupped his mouth and burst to tear-jerking laughter. His stomach writhed under Katsuki’s weight, eyes scrunched closed shut. Katsuki scowled. “What the fuck's so funny?”

He sniffled, wiping some stray tears from his cheeks. “In reality, I was trying to seduce you back then,” Eijirou gasped, “It was after Purah’s not very subtle intervention, when I figured out you wanted me too, so I was doing my best to get you to kiss me, but your will was...adamant. But that's expected of you.” Eijirou sighed, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “It was infuriating to see you resist me like that, but thinking back to it, it‘s amusing how much you squirmed.”

Everything in Katsuki’s mind went deadly silent. He grabbed the pillow under Eijirou’s head and smacked him with it repeatedly. “You fucking bastard,” he grunted after each hit.

Eijirou laughed heartily, shielding his face with his arms. “Not my fault you are as dense as your sword’s blade!” he shouted. "Ow, stop it!"

“I almost died, fuckhead!”

“You should have kissed me!” 

Hands gripped his wrists, forcing Katsuki to stop. Eijirou's grin was large underneath the pillow, his cheeks flushed from the joy, the sex, the effort, and like in the dream, he resembled the spirits he loved so much. But he was real. All very real. And, unlike the dream, he was all very his. 

“C’mon, kiss me now,” Eijirou drawled, innocent but lethal. 

Katsuki drew a breath and shifted against Eijirou’s hips. He let go of the pillow, smirking when it landed unceremoniously on Eijirou’s face. “I’m never kissing you again, fuck you," he stated. He unstraddled Eijirou's hips, smacking him on the thigh. "Move your ass. We have to shower and take care of the horses."

Instead of an answer, Katsuki was pushed face-first in the softness of his mattress. An immovable force pressed against his back, warm but immobilizing, and Katsuki grunted as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Fingers trailed under his stomach, gentle but not ticklish, from the hip all the way to his chest. They stopped on a sensitive nipple, making a mess out of it until perked with the pride that filled Eijirou’s chest.

“Where are you going?” Eijirou whispered, and his voice rumbled with a husk that sent shivers across Katsuki’s nerve endings. “I haven’t made you squirm enough yet."

Katsuki hissed, his insides already burning like the waters of Gero Pond as smile, sly and full of promises, spread on Eijirou's face.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been really thinking of re-writing this AU (Captured Memories more specifically), but with their roles switched; as in Kiri is the knight and Baku the prince. At least until botw2 comes out :3
> 
> Thanks for reading! Find me on Twitter @Stylish_Racoon !!


End file.
